


A Day In The Struggle of Akaashi

by Ink_stained_quills



Series: Hanamaki Disease: Disturbing the peace of volleyball teams everywhere [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crack, M/M, hanamaki disease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27088186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_stained_quills/pseuds/Ink_stained_quills
Summary: “ “Please let this be a normal practice match,” pleads Watari.“With the Friz?”  Hanamaki yells, Matsukawa matching him word for word.  “No way!”Kindaichi actually bursts into tears.At this, Hanamaki feels kind of bad.  “... hey, Kindaichi.  Look, we’re sorry.  We’ll send you to therapy or something for your birthday.”“That gives me…”  Matsukawa checks his phone calendar.  “Four months to get a degree in psychology.” “(Background Info: Hanamaki has the power to know when people are crushing, and is forced to "eyy" accordingly.)
Relationships: (before this point are established), Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: Hanamaki Disease: Disturbing the peace of volleyball teams everywhere [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604839
Comments: 69
Kudos: 275





	1. *Chris voice* Not cool, dudes

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pulling an OHSHC here and saying screw the timeline, nobody graduates until I say so

“I hate how you guys change the words to songs,” Oikawa mumbles from the seat in front of them. “Every practice match? Really?”

Hanamaki raises his voice a bit more. “Say you’ll remember meme -”

“Standing in a white and gold dress,” Matsukawa continues, off key, then whispers “... or a black and blue dress.”

“Instagramming the sunset, bae!” Hanamaki warbles, Taylor Swift blaring through the bus. In the back, Watari slams his head softly against Yahaba’s shoulder for the seventieth time since they started moving.

“Make it stop,” Yahaba whines. Kyoutani has his ears covered, but he manages an evil glare at the third years.

“Only two hours left until we reach Fukurodani!” Kindaichi calls back, most likely in an attempt to be helpful.

Kunimi eyes him balefully. “Take a page out of my book and shut up. All three of you.”

“Please let this be a normal practice match,” pleads Watari.

“With the Friz?” Hanamaki yells, Matsukawa matching him word for word. “No way!”

Kindaichi actually bursts into tears.

At this, Hanamaki feels kind of bad. “... hey, Kindaichi. Look, we’re sorry. We’ll send you to therapy or something for your birthday.”

“That gives me…” Matsukawa checks his phone calendar. “Four months to get a degree in psychology.”

“If you keep terrorizing your teammates, I can and will make you walk,” their coach threatens. “Kyoutani! Stop humming the intro to The Magic School Bus!”

“You’ll make Watari’s hair fall out!” Yahaba agrees, then covers his smirk with a hand. “Oh, wait…”

“Yours looks like a hot air balloon landed on your head,” Watari retorts sullenly. Yahaba gasps like a victorian lady who’s just been told what child endangerment is, and doesn’t particularly want to give up her orphan chimney sweep. Kyoutani laughs at him loud enough that one of the first years gives him a shaken look.

“But in all seriousness, it’ll be nice to go somewhere calm,” Matsukawa points out, somehow managing to lean cooly against the back of his seat to face the others. Hanamaki debates shoving him.

Oikawa nods as if he understands. “Things have been hectic, especially since Makki got his powers.”

“You have exactly no right to say that,” Hanamaki groans, recalling how often meetings with other teams turned into couples counselling. “You’ve been here for, like, half the times. Not counting how many times I have to shove my scarf into my mouth while walking down the street!”

“How embarrassing.” Oikawa sniffs.

Hanamaki sighs in agreement. “One time, this blond guy was walking with this purple haired girl - she had jacks for earrings? - and I started ‘eyy’ing, and then she pulled out a pocket knife -”

“I was talking about Mattsun,” Oikawa informs him, holding up a dramatic hand. “Associating with you…”

“I had to drop his hand and jump into an alley,” Matsukawa remenices. “Ah, good times.”

“You smelled like a dumpster for the rest of the day.” Hanamaki grumbles.

“Did not.”

Iwaizumi hefts his phone between them, Snapchat lying open on the screen.

Snap from Matsukawa: (image of four shoes, clearly taken as the wearers walk down the street) god its only like our second official date and i smell like trash i cant breathe hes gonna break up with me iwaizumi h e l p

Snap from Hanamaki: (image of two fingers held up in a peace sign) lmao can u belive he jumped in an alley and smells so bad skunks would cry i love this dweeb

Snap from Iwaizumi to Hanamaki: (image of Iwaizumi’s unimpressed face) bad taste, break up w/ him

Snap back from Hanamaki: (image of the sky) youre legit dating oikawa

Snap back from Iwaizumi: (image of a sheet of homework) look i did it on purpose at least

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa complains. “That’s not defending my honor at all!”

Matsukawa eyes the phone like he’d like to throw it out the bus window. “Yeah, uh, I never got a response from that and metally screamed for like three hours, so thanks for that. ‘Break up with him’. Wow.”

“How many Snapchat conversations have you screenshotted?” Hanamaki asks, amused, and flicks to the next one.

Snap from Oikawa: (image)

Hanamaki really does throw the phone at that. “Iwaizumi, why!”

“If you’d texted your ex-girlfriends like that, maybe they wouldn’t have broken up with you,” Matsukawa chokes out, flopping across the aisle into Hanamaki’s lap. (He’s not going to complain.)

“Good thing he didn’t,” Iwaizumi says primly through gritted teeth. Oikawa covers his hands with his face and zips himself into his - nope, that’s Iwaizumi’s, gross - sweatshirt, wailing quietly.

“What?” One of the underclassmen yells from the back. “If Oikawa’s embarrassed, I think we all have a right to know.”

“You don’t want to!” Hanamaki cackles, threading his hands through Matsukawa’s hair.

“Oh, so he’s being gross again.”

“They’re all being gross again,” Kyoutani complains. “All relationship-y.”

Watari stares at him, dead-eyed and unimpressed. He probably remembers all his past lives. Hell, he’s probably been tormented by the Seijoh group in most of them. “You were making out with my best friend in my kitchen last time we tried to study as a group.”

“In our defence,” Yahaba starts, “I have no defence.”

“Damn straight,” huffs Watari, crossing his tiny arms.

“Damn gay,” Kunimi counters.

“Can we make that the team motto?” Oikawa suggests, far too delighted. “Maybe we could put it on our banner thingy.”

“Because that would attract the fans in droves,” Iwaizumi snorts.

Kindaichi puts in one earbud, flicks through his Spotify, and selects a song. Hanamaki notes with pride that it’s The Backyardigans. “The girls would appreciate it. Draw out the fujoshis.”

Iwaizumi spews water. “Who taught you that?”

“The real world,” Kindaichi says with a dead eyed stare.

“Plus, I think that might be trademarked by Karsuno,” Yahaba reminds them reluctantly.

Oikawa counts on his fingers, then boos loudly. “The one thing they beat us at.”

Kindaichi frowns. “Didn’t they also beat us at -”

“The one thing,” Oikawa repeats.

“But seriously, we’re finally going to have an actual practice match, no shenanigans or tomfoolery!” Matsukawa cheers, seemingly half asleep in Hanamaki’s lap. 

Iwaizumi looks at him skeptically. “How can you be sure?”

“Come on,” Matsukawa mumbles confidently, “They’ve got Akaashi.”

There is a moment of silence for Akaashi. Poor, beautiful, tormented Akaashi.

“My rival in beauty,” Oikawa declares.

“He’s not your rival in beauty,” Iwaizumi replies nonchalantly.

Oikawa gasps like a maiden. “Iwa-chan, you do love me!”

Without hesitation, Iwaizumi continues: “He’s got you beat.”

“I can’t believe you’d break up with me like this, in front of the whole team.” Oikawa complains. “Divorcing me for Aka-chan in front of the children? Despicable.”

“Yeah,” Hanamaki chimes in. “I mean, some of them are still small and innocent! Yaha - hm, no.”

“Kuni- no,” Matsukawa frowns, scanning the bus. “... Kindaichi?”

“After the fujoshi comment?” Iwaizumi raises a single eyebrow. His face is probably carved from stone, Hanamaki thinks absently. His jawline is practically polished marble. Hanamaki looks over at Oikawa, with his soft little face, and tries not to wheeze at the thought of Oikawa’s face getting grated like cheese when Iwaizumi waits too long between shaves.

Matsukawa shrugs. “Got a better option?”

“The world has corrupted me,” Kindaichi announces to the bus (and perhaps the world at large). “I shall never see things the same way again.”

“Yesterday you were crying over baby bunnies,” Kunimi reminds him bluntly.

Kindaichi crosses his arms and pouts. “I’m a changed man!”

“You did the same thing today.”

“Stop sending them to me if you’re just going to call me out like this!”

“You know what would be fun?” Hanamaki muses offhandedly, skimming through his YouTube recommended videos. “If we did ASMR.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “Seijoh ASMR: listen to us slam volleyballs into the ground for two hours.”

“Seijoh ASMR but it’s Oikawa saying ‘Iwa-chan, are you my mom?’ over and over again.” Matsukawa suggests.

“Seijoh ASMR: the great Oikawa-san makes his teammates run laps around the gym,” Oikawa needles, tapping the seat with his nails.

Nodding, Hanamaki taps his own against the windows. “Seijoh ASMR but it’s me saying ‘eyy’ on loop.”

“Fukurodani isn’t going to let us in their gym, are they?” Yahaba asks dramatically. “They’re going to leave us out in the cold -”

“It’s not even winter.” interrupts Watari.

“To get hypothermia, and then Matsukawa and Hanamaki will make jokes like ‘I only have ice for you’ or ‘that’s a step too fire’.” Yahaba finishes with a long suffering air.

“You don’t like our puns? How cold.” Hanamaki snarks.

Matsukawa holds his hand out for a preemptive high five. “Look, Yahaba, snow happens weather you like it or not.”

Iwaizumi exhales through his nose in the universal sign for trying not to laugh, and Kyoutani looks betrayed.

“If I die, tell me you’ll remember meme~” Hanamaki begs his friends.

Matsukawa places a hand to his head. “I’m swooning.”

“We’re here!” Yahaba calls to the front, leaning over his seat to point at the Fukurodani campus.

“Finally,” Kyoutani grumbles.

“I can’t wait to see Aka-chan!” Oikawa chirps, bouncing in his seat like a little kid.

“You just want to bug him for skin tips again,” Iwaizumi accuses. “I want to see him because he understands the pain of being vice for a high-maintenance captain.”

Kindaichi tilts his head to the side, considering, as he packs away his earbuds. “He’s so calm, all the time. I don’t know how he does it.”

“Tuning people out half the time,” Kunimi replies, and steps off the bus.

“We don’t want to hear that!” Oikawa squawks, chasing after him. Iwaizumi sighs down at the duffle bag his boyfriend left, picks it up, and hoists it over his shoulder.

Hanamaki wolf whistles. “That’s it, show off those muscles!”

“I’m not taking your bags,” Iwaizumi snorts. Hanamaki pouts at him to no avail.

“There, there, my dear Makki,” Matsukawa soothes, patting him on the back, “it’s not your fault you can’t carry as many bags at Iwaizumi. After all, you can’t even beat him at arm wrestling.”

“Give me those,” Hanamaki gasps, snatching Matsukawa’s bag as well as his own. “Second years, gimme.”

“Thanks, senpai!” Watari chirps, dropping his bag into Hanamaki’s arms as he trots off the bus. He scowls down at the bag. What does the libero keep in here, bricks? Yahaba places his bag delicately on top of the stack, eyeing Hanamaki with concern, and Kyoutani gives him a single look before carrying his own bag out of the bus.

Hanamaki stares down at his burden. “You think it’d be more impressive if I carried you out as well?”

Matsukawa, too, looks at the bags. “As much as I trust those delectable arms, I think I’ll walk.”

“Aka-chan!” Oikawa chirps (“Here he goes,” Iwaizumi mutters fondly with an eye roll at Akaashi). “We have arrived! Where’d Bo-chan go?”

Then, Akaashi does the unthinkable.

“I -” he starts, stops, then stutters (yes, stutters!!). “Around, I’m sure.”

Konoha eyes the setter with the same amount of horror the Karasuno second years would in the event of a pop quiz. “He’s going over some paperwork with the coach. Technically, you should be in there too.”

“I decided to talk to Oikawa-san for a time. Setter to setter.” Akaashi says stiffly, grabbing Oikawa by the arm and towing him away. “Goodbye.”

“I’m going to cry,” Iwaizumi whispers.

“You’re going to cry?” Konoha demands, throwing his hands into the air. “This team relies on Akaashi to live!”

“Since when has Akaashi willingly dragged Oikawa off to talk?” Yahaba wonders aloud. “He said ‘setter to setter’...”

“There’s no way that was a setter issue,” Watari concludes.

Kindaichi, staring into the void, says: “It’s about setting something, all right.” Kunimi blinks, hard.

“So much for a drama free trip,” Matsukawa mumbles.

“There’s no such thing as a drama free trip for us,” Hanamaki announces, dropping all four bags to the ground with a thud. (“My bag!” “Oh, no, Yahaba - did you have wigs in there?” “Watari, you’re fired. I don’t know what I can fire you from, but expect severance soon.”) “It’s like an episode for Total Drama Island.”

“So sad you lost that practice match, dudes.” Matsukawa mimics, drawing on the Power Of Chris. “It’s time to vote someone off, and send them home on the boat of losers.”

Kyoutani turns dead eyes on them. “If I understand half of what you say someday, it’ll be too much.”


	2. Kindaichi wishes he could pull a Diechi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just vibing,,, chapters flow from my fingers at the pace they wish
> 
> But for real I've had so many assignments this week! And I'll continue to have many assignments! And I keep doing A Bit More because I'm extra! So.

Hanamaki sighs magnanimously. “As much as I’m loathe to spy on people, much less our beloved captain -”

“You spied on me getting drinks the other day,” Yahaba protests.

“And you took a video of me tripping in the hallways.” Kindaichi complains, probably on the edge of flashbacking at any moment. “I still don’t know how you snuck into the first year wing. You’re a six foot eighteen year old with pink hair.”

“You informed me I should eat more vegetables at lunch.” Kunimi chimes in. “Then you asked why the cauliflower was available. We don’t even have the same lunch block.”

Kyoutani scowls. “Did he not know it was a vegetable?”

“He said that ghost broccoli shouldn’t be served to students.”

At this, Watari steps out of the Seijoh cluster and walks off to talk with Fukurodani’s libero. Hanamaki can’t blame him.

“Babe,” Matsukawa soothes, “your foot is so far in your mouth you’re practically digesting it.”

“What, no gag reflex?” Hanamaki snarks, smirking at his teammates. Kindaichi inhales, grabs Kunimi’s sleeve, drags him away, picks up a volleyball, presses it to his face, and exhales loud enough that Hanamaki’s eardrums ring with the force of his kohai’s disappointment.

Bokuto leaps out from the coach’s office, yelling. “Hey, hey, hey! Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, Matsukawa!”

“Yo, Bokuto.” Iwaizumi nods at him. Hanamaki and Matsukawa offer twin devil grins, Bokuto just leering back. It’s their thing, especially when Kuroo can join in with his weird smile (“That’s my sexy smirk, how dare you!” “You look like a perv.”).

The ace looks around, large eyes scanning the gym. “You guys seen Akaashi around? I gotta ask him about signatures on something ‘fore I can start practice.”

“He was with Oikawa a minute ago,” Matsukawa shrugs, jabbing a finger out the door.

“Like... willingly?” Bokuto blinks.

“I resent that, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi says matter-of-factly, marching into the gym alongside Oikawa.

Oikawa sticks out his tongue. “Yeah, Bo-chan! Rude.”

“Poor Akaashi has to deal with high maintenance people all day,” Konoha commiserates, walking back over with a stack of papers. “But seriously, we need these signed.”

“Agashi!” Bokuto cheers, dashing over to him and bouncing in place. “I have this idea for a play I wanna talk to you about!”

Akaashi nods. “We can discuss it while I sign these papers, shall we?”

The pair walk away, shouts of ‘Agashiiiiii’ ringing through the air louder than the thump of volleyballs against the ground. Rolling his eyes, the setter settles down with his papers just out of earshot.

“... he’s saying his name wrong on purpose.” Oikawa notes.

Iwaizumi scoffs, tossing Oikawa’s bag at him. “Why would he do that.”

“You underestimate Bo-chan!” Oikawa huffs, hugging his bag to his chest, and directs Iwaizumi’s attention to Bokuto. “He snuck in a nickname AND gets Aka-chan to pay attention to him whenever he says it.”

“Because that doesn’t sound familiar at all,” Matsukawa mumbles, earning a glare and a “Great minds think alike!” from Oikawa.

“Can we please eat lunch first?” Konoha pleads. “Standing around watching them isn’t going to help any of us get to Nationals.” 

“Fine.” Komi acquiesces. “But no salt and vinegar chips for you, you’re salty enough.”

Kyoutani eyes Bokuto’s arms, Iwaizumi’s, and finally his own. “Do you think Bokuto-san would arm wrestle me if I asked.”

“There’s no chance you’ll win.” Yahaba informs him.

“I’m plenty strong!” Kyoutani protests, offended.

His boyfriend snorts. “If you win, I’ll…”

“Wear a cheerleading outfit!” Watari suggests (he’s far too pleased about this, what a demon).

“... fine.”

“This team needs Jesus.” Hanamaki mumbles.

Matsukawa opens his mouth as if to say it’s more likely they need Buddha, closes it, and pulls a quarter out of his pocket as an offering. “You need Jesus.”

“I think they’re sold out.”

Washio shoves everyone out the door with the assistance of Fukurodani’s manager, seemingly already tired of having to be the rational one while Akaashi is on the fritz. “Just go eat!”

“You know, I admire his commitment to not meeting Bokuto’s eyes straight on,” Hanamaki remarks, watching the opposing team eat. Akaashi eats delicately, looking at Bokuto’s nose instead of his eyes, and he glances over at Oikawa (who in comparison is demolishing a stack of milk breads with serial killer-like intensity).

Matsukawa takes a bite of his apple and proceeds to talk with his mouth open. “You could make a business with your powers.”

“I’ll just solve this real quick, it’s whatever.” Hanamaki replies flippantly. He rises from his seat and crosses to the Fukurodani captains, yawning. “Could you two look into each other’s eyes real quick?”

“Sure!” Bokuto chirps (bless him, now Akaashi can hardly refuse). He turns, grasps Akaashi’s face, and stares into his eyes.

Hanamaki opens his mouth to eyy.

… but it doesn’t happen.

“... thanks.” Hanamaki says at last, turning around, and goes back to his friends. “What was that?”

“Power not happening today?” Oikawa offers.

“Nope, I ran into people on the street n junk,” Hanamaki shakes his head, puzzled.

“They clearly like each other though,” Iwaizumi frowns. “I mean, look at them.”

“Maybe it’s not a crush yet?” Matsukawa offers. “Or maybe… nah. Akaashi, of all people, isn’t that oblivious.”

The group raises a communal eyebrow. “What?”

“Maybe they don’t even realize they like each other?” Matsukawa winces.

“Ahhh, so troublesome!” Oikawa sighs, tipping his head back. Iwaizumi eyes the delicate line of his throat like he might sucker punch him. “Well, the expert matchmakers had better get to work~”

“Can’t we make this fun?”

Hanamaki looks over at Washio. “Fun?”

“Whoever gets them to realize first wins the title of ‘Matchmaking-est Volleyball Player’,” Komi decides. “Name in progress.”

Technically, Hanamaki’s fairly certain he’s done more matchmaking than the rest of them have in their lifetimes, but everyone seems pretty into it. “Sounds good.”

~~~

“Komi,” Konoha needles, “What’s your type?”

Komi pretends to think about this. “Probably… long brown hair, freckles, green eyes…”

“Oi.” Washio scowls. “That’s my girlfriend.”

“Not for long!” Komi shouts, dodging the volleyballs Washio throws at him as he cackles.

“What’s your type, Bokuto?” Konoha asks.

Bokuto tosses a ball absently from hand to hand, somehow manages to wiggle his hair, takes an impressively deep breath, and lifts his finger to point at some imaginary person. “Someone who’s good at making onigiri!”

“I think Osamu Miya’s taken, dude.” Matsukawa says sagely.

“Akaashi, can you make onigiri?” Oikawa yells (“Way to be obvious, captain!” “Ha, captain obvious.”).

The younger setter looks up from the papers he’s signing. “I’ve never tried. However, I’m sure I could make perfectly adequate onigiri.”

“Akaashi can’t cook for shit.” Washio declares, earning himself more glares than the time Kunimi convinced the team eggs weren’t real.

Bokuto turns to give Akaashi a thumbs up. “That’s okay, me neither!”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi claims, face very obviously turning pink. “You’re not endearing at all. Never speak to me again.”

“He’s not even Bokuto’s type!” Komi whispers. “Cradle robber!”

“If anything, it feels like Akaashi’s the cradle robber,” Konoha muses. “He’s always parenting us.”

“Setters are predisposed to be moms: Suga, Akaashi, Semi -” Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa. Oikawa looks back, bats his eyes and smiles beautifically until Iwaizumi shoves his face away. “Suga.”

~~~

“You know how I realized I liked Iwa-chan?” Oikawa says loudly. “One day we were hunting for bugs -”

“And Oikawa was crying, because he hated insects.” Iwaizumi adds. “I had to convince him they were tiny alien spies -”

Oikawa shoots him a glare and covers his mouth with a hand. “Which I believed until the eighth grade, Iwa-chan, thanks for that - and I tripped and skinned my knee.”

Iwaizumi jabs him in the side, causing Oikawa to shriek, and snorts. “So I had to let all my bugs go and carry him back.”

“And I realized that he loved me enough to release the insect probes for my rescue,” Oikawa sighs nostalgically. “What a romantic he is.”

“Okay, I know this is to get the idiots to realize they like each other,” Hanamaki whispers, “But if there is a Jesus, or buddah, or whatever, Iwaizumi will tell me when he realized.”

“I tripped on the way back, he tried carrying me, and I was too big.” Iwaizumi grins evilly. “He got a facefull of mud.”

“So did you!” Oikawa protests.

With a deep sigh, Matsukawa sprawls back against the gym wall. “Someday you guys are gonna tell us the real story.”

“This time it’s the real story” Iwaizumi says with a straight face.

Hanamaki eyes them. “Really?”

“No.”

“... I don’t think either of them heard, either.” Iwaizumi notes, eyeing the Fukurodani players.

“Damnit!”

~~~

“I’m surprised you aren’t doing more,” Matsukawa tells him.

Hanamaki shrugs. “I know in my heart that I’m the best matchmaker. Pardon, the ‘Match-makingest Volleyball Player’. Besides, I could use a break.”

“You want to save your good memes for later.”

“I want to save my good memes for later. So many ball puns can be made, my dear Mattsun!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these comments get me writing my guys i love every one of them


	3. in which the story ends, but the suffering doesn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you've probably noticed how these are short! yeah it's because I have far less time than I did over break,,,
> 
> ALSO. while writing this story I was also writing an Iwaoi magic AU that I'd be thrilled if you checked out?

“Connections between a setter and their ace are very important,” Oikawa pretends to lecture, Yahaba and Kyoutani eyeing him with visible distress. “You have to be in sync with each other on the court, which means you should strive to be in sync off the court as well! Take me and Iwa-chan -”

“If you talk about that time we both independently decided to watch Thomas Sanders vines and swoon over TikTok lesbians all day, I will burn your phone.” Iwaizumi threatens from halfway across the gym. How did he hear. Is he a superhero.

“Childhood friend powers,” Hanamaki hisses enviously.

“I just want them to adopt me,” Oikawa sobs.

Yahaba raises his hand. “Uh, senpai?”

“I can’t believe you just raised your hand.” Kyoutani barks a laugh, earning himself a swat to the head.

“Yes, dearest kohai?” Oikawa replies magnanimously.

The younger setter shifts in his cross legged position on the ground. “Kyoutani and I are getting along fine. I’m not sure why we’re having an intervention.”

“I was going to talk about communication!” Oikawa declares, flinging his hands out to his sides. Watari ducks smoothly under one. Konoha is nailed in the face by the other. “And… uh… introspection!”

“Three out of ten delivery,” Matsukawa calls. Oikawa scowls back (Hanamaki can practically hear him complaining about how he’s never less than a ten of ten), but chooses instead to watch Akaashi and Bokuto.

“You know,” Bokuto muses, “there is something I’ve been thinking about related to Akaashi.”

“There is?” Washio asks, equal parts anticipation and dread.

He nods. “I saw this owl video, and one of them looked just like him! I could practically hear it telling me ‘stop delaying your homework by watching animal videos, Bokuto-san’.”

“That would be because you sent the video to me, and I called you to check on your progress.” Akaashi informs him serenely.

“I’m going to die.” Matsukawa mumbles. “These two are going to be the death of me. You’d better pick the best memes to put on my coffin.” 

“I’ll read Jesus X Reader fanfiction at your funeral.” Hanamaki wipes a tear away.

Matsukawa nods studiously. “There won’t be a dry eye in the place.”

“What if we shove them into a room together and order them to make out as a team bonding exercise.” Komi growls. “Or tell them holding hands is helpful, like in that baseball anime.”

“You want them making out and holding hands but still not dating?” Konoha asks incredulously, shoulders slack. “How is that not a thousand times worse?”

Watari nods sagely. “Big Windup was full of tension between that pitcher and catcher.”

“Of course you’re the nerd that watches sports anime,” Yahaba snarks. “We literally play sports all day.”

“It’s full of camaraderie and underdog stories!” Watari retorts, seemingly invested in the concept of sports anime as a whole. Hanamaki’s never really been into it, but whatever. 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto yells as he spikes one of Akaashi’s sets. “I love -”

“You,” Konoha whispers.

“Your face.” Komi hisses, staring daggers into his captain’s head.

“Onigiri.” Washio says reasonably. The others glare at him.

“Your tosses!” Bokuto chirps, smacking Akaashi on the back.

Akaashi smiles, small and unfathomable and fond. He’s a goddess (go away, gender norms). An icon. A blessing. “Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

“How on earth did he get a beauty like Akaashi?” Oikawa wails quietly. “And he doesn’t even know it!”

“Akaashi likes himbos,” Matsukawa whispers sadly.

Yahaba shakes his head. “It’s the seventh wonder of the world.”

“There are already seven wonders, dumbass.” Kyoutani says, face full of pain.

Yahaba sputters, folding his arms. “Don’t say dumbass too much or you’ll turn into Kageyama.”

Oikawa points at him. “We don’t say the k word in this household.”

Finally, Konoha grabs Akaashi by one arm, Komi snags the other, and they drag him yakuza-style out of the gym. Akaashi watches them, serene and foreboding. “Why am I being kidnapped this time?”

“Akaashi. You are killing us.” Konoha informs him. “You are killing your teammates.”

“Is this what you want? For the entire team to die and not go to Nationals?” Komi demands.

Akaashi blinks at them. “Right now? I’m considering it.”

“Bokuto, you lucky bastard,” Hanamaki whispers, shaking a fist in the air.

“Why, oh why, can’t you see that you have a crush on Bokuto?” Komi wails, falling to his knees and fake sobbing.

“I’m well aware of that,” Akaashi replies, somewhat bemused, as his teammates continue.

“Now, Akaashi,” Konoha says, raising his hands, “I know it might take some time to come to terms with this revelation -”

“I already know.”

“- but we really need you to just date already,” Komi concludes scientifically, nodding his head.

“I’ve been planning our wedding for six months.”

Konoha pulls a square of paper out of his pocket and proceeds to unfold it, revealing a chart. “This is how much our productivity levels have gone down in the past five weeks.”

“And this -” Washio pops out of nowhere. “- is a projected level of accidental teen deaths in Japan. Notice how it goes up if you two keep being oblivious.”

Sighing, Akaashi turns to stare into Hanamaki’s soul. He shivers. “‘Bokuto is the only excitable one,’ they said. ‘Come be our setter and vice captain and also babysitter,’ they didn’t say.”

“Then Bokuto is the problem,” Hanamaki confirms. “Makes sense. He seems oblivious.”

“He’s very observant!” Akaashi retorts, stealing the chart and recycling it. “Just - not about this.”

“Akaashi!” Washio complains. “We worked hard on that chart!”

Akaashi looks back at him. Walks into the coach’s office. Emerges with a lighter. Lights it. Drops it into the trash can.

The chart lights on fire. Akaashi walks back into the gym amidst Washio’s pained screams.

“They alright?” Bokuto asks, craning his neck to look through the door as it closes.

Akaashi steers Bokuto’s face away from the door. Fire and carnage reflect in the deepest shadows of his eyes. “They’re fine, Bokuto-san. It’s sweet of you to be worried for them.”

 _Though they don’t deserve it,_ his eyes say.

“What the fuck, what the _fuck_ ,” Matsukawa chants softly.

Hanamaki cracks his knuckles. “I got this.”

~~~

He doesn’t got this. Presumably, Bokuto doesn’t realize he has a crush, right? So all he has to do is make him aware of it, and they can get together, and Seijoh can finally (finally!) have an actual practice match.

They’ve tried word association, hypnotism, truth or dare, and everything in between and Hanamaki _really_ wants that ‘Matchmaking-est Volleyball Player’ award, despite his better judgement.

“Bokuto!” Hanamaki yells, exasperated. “You like Akaashi!”

“Sure, Akaashi’s great!” Bokuto calls back.

Washio collapses to the ground.

~~~

“My guy,” Matsukawa says seriously, “Bro. Dude. Please just date Akaashi.”

“Dating Akaashi?” Bokuto repeats. “Never thought about it.”

Matsukawa shrugs. “Maybe you should.”

“Wait - this is a distraction tactic, isn’t it!” Bokuto yelps, doubling down on his arm wrestling. “It won’t work!”

“It’d probably be really nice,” Kyoutani grunts out, straining to push the ace’s mighty forearm back. “He looks all soft.”

“Don’t listen to them!” Yahaba pleads, cheerleading uniform just out of sight, and glares at Matsukawa. “Soft boyfriends aren’t all that great!”

“Oi,” growls Kyoutani. “Stop talking bad about yourself to get out of this. It’s not gonna work.”

Bokuto hesitates for a single, crucial moment of consideration, then - slam!

“Ha!” Kyoutani yells, raising an arm in victory.

Yahaba groans and snatches the cheerleading outfit. “I’m proud against my will, for the record.”

“That’s cheating!” Bokuto protests, pouting. “Agashiiiii, I totally would have won that.”

Akaashi pats his arm. Hanamaki can see the moment when his thoughts turn from ‘reassure Bokuto-san’ to ‘shit, Bokuto-san has really nice arms - I knew this, but damn’ (or maybe it’s just him? no, definitely part Akaashi). “I’m sure you would have. In the future, you won’t let yourself get distracted.”

“Distracted…” Bokuto mumbles. “Uh. Yeah. Whoops.”

Hanamaki’s phone buzzes.

 **from roosterhead:** My ‘oya oya oya’ sense is going off...  
 **from shek’s_bf:** inform bokuto he likes akaashi plz

Bokuto’s phone blares the nyan cat music, and he scoops it up. “Kuroo!”

“I come bearing important information,” Kuroo announces solemnly. “Bokuto, you have a crush on your setter. Happens to the best of us.”

Beeps from Kenma’s phone can be heard in the background. “I resent what that implies.”

“We tried that already,” Komi complains. “That’s not enough to -”

“Bro, for real?” Bokuto asks, cutting off his horrified teammate.

Kuroo nods. “The realest of fors, bro.”

“In that case…” Bokuto frowns down at his phone. “Hey, Akaashi.”

“Yes.”

“Sweet!” the ace declares, scooping Akaashi up. “Hey, hey, hey - everybody, guess what?”

“Kuroo wins?” Hanamaki whines. “Kuroo isn’t even here! I had to help him get together with Kenma!”

“I just needed a little push,” Kuroo says defensively.

Hanamaki snorts. “Yeah, off a cliff.”

“The important thing is that Akaashi is back to normal,” Konoha concludes. “And we’ll never have to worry about anything like this again.”

“That never ends well,” Matsukawa whispers.

Slowly, all heads turn to Akaashi, who is attempting to hide how hard he’s blushing by retreating into his uniform. 

“Um, Bokuto?” Washio tries. “Could you put Akaashi down so we can have a proper practice match?”

Bokuto shakes his head. “Never.”

“End the episode.” Hanamaki says.

Oikawa raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“End it.”

“That’s not how real life wo-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how was it? what did you like, dislike, what team(s) you'd like to see if I do more? idk man you do you


	4. bonus materials

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that I have all these responses to stuff that? Is basically as crack-y as the actual series? So if you want some 'o that I thought I'd put a sample here

_(in response to **ripetrash** )_

“Tendou,” Semi says solemnly, “this is an intervention.”

“Is this because of this time I put ice in my apple juice?” Tendou asks. “Because I stand by that.”

“No.”

The middle blocker thinks. “How I put French subtitles over everything I watch even though I don’t know French?”

Ushijima looks up from his book. “I just thought you knew the language.”

“Is it how I clip my toenails but don’t clean up after?”

“Good god, you do that?” Semi exclaims, appalled. “It’s about your typing!”

“Oh.” Tendou blinks. “I type with my foot. And I’ve disabled autocorrect.”

“WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FOOT.”

_(In response to **Fluffyy** , about the meme dreme teame: Hahaha the chaos that they will cause lmao, the look that Kenma gave the both— who wants to bet he has plans to assassinate someone lmao (probs gonna be lev haha))_

He could kill a man if needed to, even a huge Russian:

“Kenma-san?” Lev pokes the setter’s device, causing Kenma to (albeit briefly) lose concentration. Kuroo gulps on the other side of the gym.

“Rip Lev,” Yaku mumbles, “you were a dumbass to the end.”

Kenma looks up from his game, and Lev regrets his life choices.

_(In response to **butterfly_wings** : "I PRONOUNCE THEM SCOLIOSIS FREE" hanamaki ur the BEST  
i also cant believe yaku made them all cover their eyes. kuroo might be the captain but yaku holds all the power, the real captain of nekoma is yaku  
matsukawa being like "lmao i almost dont want u to use ur powers on them" bc lev and yaku r just,,,that dysfunctional,,,no wonder kuroo needed their services,,,but hanamaki already got the cream puffs so like,,,he could just,,,run away (jk jk i know he wouldn't plus the matsuhana and kuroo friendship is amazing i love their little facial convo))_

“You know,” Matsukawa whispers, “We could just leave. Like, right now.”

Hanamaki gasps and presses a hand to his heart like a lady of old. “Think of the scandal!”

“You did already get your cream puffs...” Matsukawa rightfully points out.

“My mother didn’t raise you like this!”

_(in response to **pennyforyourthoughts** : aaahhhh!!!! i love it!!! iwaizumi dishing the cold hard truth, yahaba clutching his pearls like an old lady looking utterly scandalised, tortured soul kindaichi (rip), long suffering konoha, poor beautiful tormented but also hopeless akaashi and your makki and mattsun are just *chef kiss* perfect. i love love love this series and i can’t wait to read more!!!)_

Watari: why do you gasp and grab at your pearls like that

Yahaba: I’d never wear my pearls to a training camp, who do you take me for?

Kyoutani: a dumbass

_(in response to **M3rcifulChaos** : Kindaichi, staring into the void, says: “It’s about setting something, all right.” Kunimi blinks, hard.  
KINDAICHI WHAT HAS THE WORLD DONE TO YOU)_

“Unspeakable things,” Kindaichi mumbles.

Kunimi turns to look at him. “Who are you even talking to.”

_(in response to **butterfly_wings** : SOMEONE RESCUE KINDAICHI KUNIMI AND WATARI LKSJDFKHDSJSGHJDS WATARI ABANDONED THEM FOR KOMI KINDAICHI SIGHS INTO VOLLEYBALLS AND KUNIMI'S LIKE THESE MFS KEEP COMING TO MY LUNCH PERIOD TO COMPLAIN ABOUT GHOST BROCCOLLI,,,ITS CAULIFLOWER FOOLS)_

Next episode of Masterchef Kunimi:

Kunimi: how do you not know how to make a salad

Hanamaki, sprinkling coffee beans onto chunks of astronaut ice cream: this is a salad

_(in response to **Ao_Kitsune_Yokai** : Excuuuse me Komi-kun but salt and vinegar potato chips are absolutely delicious and are sent from heaven itself!)_

Bokuto: why are we out of salt and vinegar chips

Akaashi: I got some of every flavor

*everyone slowly turns to look at Komi, then at the trash can*

Washio: ... is it worth eating them once they’ve been in there

Konoha: yes

_(in response to **gemlion** : h-how did kunimi convince the team that eggs aren't real)_

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Oikawa smiles into his camera lense.

Kunimi, passing by on the way to wherever demons go when not active, says: “Eggs aren’t real.”

Kindaichi shrugs. “I’ll believe it.”

“What.” Matsukawa asks. “What do you mean by that. I’ll never sleep again.”

“What came first, the chicken or the egg?” Kunimi replies, spreading his hands as if preaching. Maybe he is. He’s doing the lord’s work. “We’ll never know. A chicken thinks. On the other hand, an egg does not.”

“Somebody stop him,” Hanamaki whimpers.

“I think, therefore I am,” Kunimi continues. “Based on that logic, unthinking things do not exist.”

Yahaba pales. “Ergo, eggs aren’t real.”

“Neither is Iowa,” Kunimi concludes, then exits the gym. To this day, the team wonders (hopes?) that it was a mass hallucination.

They’d never be so lucky.

_(in response to **butterfly_wings** : hanamaki is terrified of akaashi. perfect.)_

I imagine that if you zoom in on Akaashi’s eyes really, really far, there’s a picture of him fighting god or something

_(in response to **yolofaber** : 'the realest of fors' how do you even come uo with this stuff?)_

Thank youuuuuu okay so the cover story is that I’m “like this irl” but the truth - which I will say to you and you only - is that I have John Mulaney tied up in my basement and he gives me ideas

_(in response to **peg9chu** : I’m just imagining how tired akaashi looks but like I also imagine him still being gorgeous while tired. Bo really is lucky…)_

Akaashi could look like a zombie and Bokuto would just be like "yo did you do smth different w/ ur hair" whilst the other players curse the living daylights out of him

**Author's Note:**

> scream at me! tell me what you liked so far! what do you want to see in the future! sometimes I give bonus scenes to people who comment!


End file.
